


Harry Potter and the Pure-Blood Prince

by Tomski87



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, Major Character Death (H/D Live), Multi, Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2020-08-20 04:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomski87/pseuds/Tomski87
Summary: Draco Malfoy cannot complete the mission that the Dark Lord bestowed upon him so he turns to the only person he knows can protect him.This work diverges/intermingles with the canon from the start of HBP.Additional chapters to follow along with appropriate warnings/tags.





	1. 12th July

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new fic, my first in a VERY long time (over a decade, wow!)
> 
> Looking for someone to assist with proof-reading and correcting my woeful prose. Anyone interested in helping me out?
> 
> Whilst Kudos is lovely, comments go a long way to keep me motivated to keep writing this.

Chapter 1 - 12th July

The old man dropped the tiny piece of parchment down on the desk and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. The writing was miniscule, as if the writer had been trying to use the smallest scrap of parchment that he could and wanted to limit any chance of it being spotted.

The note requested a meeting, it was very likely to be a trap, or at the least some sort of trick, but if it was genuine he had to know. He had to find out.

There was no real way for him to respond safely however, if the message was genuine then it would place the recipient of any reply in mortal peril. But, there was still a nagging doubt in the back of his mind. He wanted to meet there! Of all the places in the world to pick from, he picked there. It couldn't be a coincidence. It must be a sign, surely? No one else could possibly know the significance of that spot. Could they?

The old man let out a long slow breath, enjoying the comfort of the squashy chair in his study, and closed his eyes. He had one hour to make up his mind, to trust or abandon, to see the best in someone or to consign them to the life they chose. Or, at least the life that had been chosen for them.

He let his mind drift away from his body, wander away from the study to dwell on the young man. Where he was, the old man could not be sure. Oh he could guess, of course, but never be actually certain. The minutes rolled by and still the old man pondered. 

The young man had wanted to meet him. A young man deep in the inner circle. Was he too deep to be pulled out? Only time would tell, of course. But he had to try. He was the only one who could.

With another deep sigh and a check of his golden pocket watch, the man stood, whispered a few well chosen words, turned on the spot and vanished. 

\--

At the height of summer, the days were sweltering but with the heat and humidity, storm clouds were brewing.

The young man was stood on a barren hill-side. The view of the surrounding landscape was bleak; he allowed himself a hollow laugh. Bleak was certainly the most appropriate word for his situation at the moment. 

He had risked everything to get away for this moment, sending the message was dangerous, if he'd been caught. He shuddered to think at what would happen. But by now he was skilled at occlumemcy; no one would be able to pull his true intentions from his mind; his barriers would hold them off.

The young man had no way of knowing if his message had found its way to the old man, the stupid old man who was now his only hope, the only one he could turn to for help. He couldn't be sure if the old man would come. He could only hope.

Dark clouds started to form in the sky and the young man glanced upwards, breathing in that thick air that always preceded a storm. Out of the sky, directly above his head a bolt of lightning flew down from above, striking the earth where the young man had been standing moments ago. The force of it had knocked him to the ground, in the fear and desperation that gripped him; he managed to yell

‘Don't kill me!’ 

The old man looked down upon the younger man, noticing with a grim pleasure the similarities to the meeting all those years ago.

‘That was not my intention.’

Any sound of Dumbledore Apparating had been drowned out by the sound of the wind rushing across the hillside. He stood before the young man with his robes whipping around him, his face was illuminated by the light cast by his wand.

‘Well?’ his voice calm despite the thunderstorm raging around them. ‘What message does Lord Voldemort have for me, Draco?’

The steely grey eyes of Draco Malfoy glanced upwards, only meeting the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore for the briefest of seconds before diverting back down to the ground. 

‘There is no message. Please?’ the voice of the young man was begging, he sounded terrified. ‘Please, you have to help me!’

‘Help you? Why on Earth would I help a Death Eater?’ the voice was not dripping with spite as it could have been but Draco heard it nonetheless.

The young man grabbed at his left wrist but it was in vain. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore had torn the sleeve of Draco’s robe and revealed beneath it the vivid red tattoo of a skull and a snake. Dumbledore had expected it to be there, branded into the pale flesh, but still inwardly sighed as he had hoped the boy would be spared from taking the mark. Kneeling below him, the boy let out a sob and all of his composure vanished in an instant.

‘I didn’t want...They made me...Held me down.’ his chest heaved as he struggled to speak every word, tears cascading down his face now. Draco looked up at his headmaster and beseeched him to believe. Instead, he held out his hand to the boy.

‘Give me your wand.’

Draco’s hands shook as he slowly reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. He stared at it for a few moments before holding the tip and placing the handle in Dumbledore’s outstretched hand. With a loud crack that seemed to rend the sky, the old man vanished taking Draco’s wand with him. Scared and alone, the young man watched as a golden feather fell slowly to the ground from where Dumbledore departed. Hesitating for a fraction of a second he reached out a hand and let the feather come to rest in his palm. The second it touched his skin Draco felt that familiar tug around his navel and was pulled into the howl of wind and whirl of colour that could only be a Portkey.


	2. 13th July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has an updated ending from its first posting.
> 
> This is a new fic, my first in a VERY long time (over a decade, wow!)
> 
> Looking for someone to assist with proof-reading and correcting my woeful prose. Anyone interested in helping me out?
> 
> Whilst Kudos is lovely, comments go a long way to keep me motivated to keep writing this

Chapter 2 - 13th July

When Draco finally opened his eyes the whirling colours had stopped and he was in an unfamiliar room. Small, dark and dank, it reminded him a little of the dungeons at Hogwarts. With his head still spinning slightly he got up and started to pace around. Not that there was a lot of room to move; he could only take a handful of steps before having to turn and start again in a different direction. The room was pretty bare and had a small lumpy looking mattress along one wall, a tiny table and chair in one corner and a suspicious looking bucket in the other.

Draco paced around as time passed, he sat on the chair as time passed, he lay on the awful mattress and still time passed, and he even stared distastefully at the bucket but still time passed. It was only when the dismal looking meal arrived out of nowhere on the table did he start to truly wonder how long he would be there for.

There was no window in his cell; no way of telling the time. He slept and he ate when food arrived, never making the mistake of leaving the plate unattended for a few minutes. The food disappeared and left him achingly hungry until the next meal. He even relaxed his standards to use the bucket although thankfully the contents vanished at once after use.

Idly he wondered if his presence would be missed anywhere, he had yet to feel the burn of the Dark Mark on his arm so perhaps not. His mother was staying close to her sister and didn’t spend a lot of time at the Manor these days. No, his brain reasoned, he would not be missed. He got up and started pacing again, trying to avoid the prickle of tears that this thought was bringing forward.

\--

Hundreds of miles away Albus Dumbledore was bowing himself out of the kitchen at the Burrow smiling to himself. So far this evening had been rather a good success. Harry had assisted him in retaining the services of Horace Slughorn and had been delivered safely to the care of the Weasleys.

He felt the air ripple as he stepped through the wards which marked the outer boundary of the Burrow. Harry was safe and now he needed to make sure things stayed that way. Turning sharply on the spot, Dumbledore vanished into the darkness.

Barely a moment later he reappeared, standing at the end of a row of grotty looking terraced houses. Glancing briefly down at the sign “Spinner’s End” he strode off up the street in search of his final destination; the house at the very end of the row. There was no real need to knock, very few people even very few wizards were able to see that this house even existed, but it was always polite to observe social niceties. Dumbledore rapped smartly on the wooden front door and felt it open at the third knock.

Inside was a dark and gloomy hallway in the middle of which stood a dark and gloomy man wand raised warily.

Dumbledore held up his hands in surrender before speaking. ‘I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and Secret Keeper of this house. You and I renewed the Fidelius charm the day before you started teaching Potions at my school.’

Snape lowered his wand. ‘Good evening Headmaster.’ he said coolly. ‘You are late.’

‘Severus, I have told you this before. I am never late. Nor am I early. I arrive precisely when I mean to.’

Snape’s lip curled into a sneer. ‘Draco will be pleased to see you. I think he is starting to lose his mind a little.’

‘I doubt that he will be pleased Severus. Let me see him.’

Snape lead Dumbledore through the tiny living room to his personal study, pressing his wand to a book and muttering a few words caused a tiny handle to appear out of the leather cover. Grasping it firmly, Snape pulled to reveal Draco’s cell with the boy looking decidedly worse for wear after his 4 day stint in the cell.

Finally discovering the identity of his “captors” did not quell the upsurge of rage in Draco’s chest. He turned to face Snape, the man who was supposed to be his godfather, his protector.

‘How dare you keep me like this!’ he spat the words viciously at Snape. ‘I am a Malfoy. My father...’

‘Is safely locked away in Azkaban.’ interjected Dumbledore, stopping the boy mid-rant. ‘Although I am sure that he would be intrigued to read the note that you sent me Draco.’ Those bright blue eyes pierced into Draco’s grey ones and again seemed to dampen down the building rage with the not too veiled threat. ‘May I sit?’ Dumbledore’s tone lightening slightly.

Draco nodded weakly and motioned to the hard chair in the corner. He may be a prisoner here, but he still had his manners. Dumbledore shook his head slightly and with a wave of his wand vanished all of the furniture and with another flick conjured two handsome looking leather wing-back chairs and a small table between them.

‘Now young Mister Malfoy,’ Dumbledore switched into a much more business like voice, ‘how might we assist you?’

Draco shifted on the remarkably comfortable chair, letting his eyes close for a moment as he could almost pretend that he was back in the drawing room of the Manor with his books. Without opening his eyes he began to talk.

‘The Dark Lord has given me a task. I...’ his voice faltered, ‘I can’t do it. I won’t do it. I am not a killer. He has threatened my father but he’s safe for now in Azkaban although the Dark Lord will have him out of there soon enough. But he threatened my mother, he told me all of the horrible things that he’d do to her if I didn’t cooperate, what choice did I have?’ Snape rather thought that the boy looked utterly defeated. Gone was the arrogant swagger, the sneering voice that he would use on those he deemed to be “lesser beings”. Sat in the chair, blood red in contrast to his pale face, Snape could see Draco for what he really was, a very scared child.

‘And who are you to kill, Draco?’

The boy looked up at his Headmaster and simply said ‘You.’

‘Ah. I see.’ Dumbledore looked thoroughly unconcerned at the notion of his murderer sitting across from him. ‘And you do not wish to accomplish this task that Voldemort has set you?’

Draco and Snape both flinched at the name.

‘No.’ came the hollow voice in reply.

‘Ah.’ Said Dumbledore again. ‘Well Draco, we cannot simply hide you away, the Death Eaters will be too suspicious and someone else will be sent to accomplish your task. No, in order to maintain your safety we must continue as if you do plan to kill me. I can think of a few ideas as to how you can be seen to be trying, even if unsuccessfully so. In agreeing to do this, you must pledge yourself fully to the side of Light, renouncing all of the Dark as well as the Malfoy name and title if necessary. If you do not wish to continue, we shall Obliviate all knowledge you have of the last 4 days and send you back home. Do you consent to the plan?’

Weakly, Draco nodded his assent.

‘Swear it to me now. Make the Unbreakable Vow. Severus, will you be our Bonder?’ The dark haired man nodded grimly. He had been hovering in the doorway to the cell but now stepped into it drawing out his wand. Dumbledore held out his right hand which Draco took, the steady hand in complete contrast to his own shaking one.

‘Will you Draco, swear to renounce Lord Voldemort utterly and work, with me, to plan his downfall?’

‘I will,’ said Draco.

‘And will you, to the best of your ability, assist the Order of the Phoenix in bringing about the end of Lord Voldemort?’

‘I will,’ said Draco.

‘And finally, will you, to the best of your ability, see to it that no lasting harm comes to Harry Potter?’ Draco’s eyes widened momentarily in fear at Dumbledore’s words

‘I will,’ said Draco for the final time. A third lick of red flame burst from Snape’s wand combining with the other two, twisting around the clasped hands like a fiery snake.

As the flames burned brighter and brighter there was a loud knock on the front door. Just when Draco thought the flames were going to burn his skin, they vanished completely.

Both Snape’s and Dumbledore’s eyes were wide with fear. Wordlessly, Snape placed a finger to his mouth to indicate silence and then left the cell, closing the hidden door all the way but for a millimetre. Draco could hear muffled voices coming from the living room, two women perhaps, in addition to Snape. He crouched on the floor at the Headmaster’s feet, desperate to hear beyond. As the voices reached his ear it was all he could do not to gasp. His mother and aunt Bellatrix were barely twelve feet away from him with absolutely no idea he was there. He listened eagerly at the crack in the door as aunt Bellatrix grilled Snape on his allegiance to the Dark Lord, as he listened to Snape dismantling her arguments one at a time, he couldn’t help but smile in the darkness. Another gasp nearly escaped his lips as the occupants of the room turned to the ritual that he himself had just performed with Dumbledore. He could see the dancing red lights even through the tiny gap as Snape made his binding promise to Narcissa, Bellatrix cackling madly throughout. That noise always made Draco scared.

The women did not stay long after performing the ritual, Bellatrix seemed that she had the assurances she wanted from Snape and Narcissa had Snape’s vow to protect Draco. Both Dumbledore and the boy crouched at his feet had remained silent and undetected, both let out a low slow sigh when Snape opened the door to declare the house to be clear.

‘They are gone’ Snape stated simply as he drew the door back for them to exit the cell. Draco was only now becoming aware of just how much he had been sweating with nerves.

\--

Draco awoke the next morning still locked in the windowless cell. Dumbledore had told him, after his mother and aunt had left, that he would only have to stay for one more night before being sent back to the Manor. He shifted on the lumpy mattress, clinging to the blanket that had been his only source of warmth overnight. He was annoyed at Dumbledore but more so at Snape, surely he could have done something to make Draco’s stay more comfortable. He simply was not used to those sorts of living conditions.

As if the very thought of his godfather had summoned him, it was at that very moment that Snape pulled the door open and beckoned Draco into the living room.

‘I am to give you instructions and then return you home. Would you prefer to eat here or back at the Manor?’

‘I’ll have the elves make me something when I get back. What instructions? Who from?’

Snape ignored the queries, ‘You should learn to prepare your own food, Draco. You need to learn to be independent; to be able to live alone is a skill.’

Draco glanced around at the grotty, dirty living room and raised an eyebrow at his godfather. ‘Clearly one you mastered long ago,’ he drawled sarcastically.

Snape looked down at the boy, mentally restraining his rising ire at Draco’s remark. ‘I spend the vast majority of the year, as you well know, at Hogwarts. I do not have time, especially these days, for cleaning.’

From the inside of his robes he pulled a scroll of parchment and handed it to Draco. Breaking the seal and unrolling it, Draco was somewhat disappointed to see that there were only five words:

_‘Vanishing Cabinet. Borgin and Burkes.’_

‘What is this?’ he asked of Snape.

‘Your instructions. You did not think that Dumbledore would make it easy for you, did you?’


	3. 1st September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a new fic, my first in a VERY long time (over a decade, wow!)
> 
> Proof-reading help might be on its way soon. Bear with me and my awful punctuation and grammar until then!
> 
> Whilst Kudos is lovely, comments go a long way to keep me motivated to keep writing this

Chapter 3 – 1st September

Draco had insisted that he and his mother were early to Platform 9 ¾ that day; he had claimed that he wanted to grab his favourite compartment. His mother allowed him the little lie, knowing full well that he wanted to spend as little time at the Manor as possible at the moment. The final weeks of the summer holiday had seen Draco shut up in his personal library doing as much research as he could into Vanishing Cabinets and generally avoiding all the Death Eaters staying at the Manor. He had paid Borgin a visit and was not overly surprised to find one in his shop. It hadn’t taken much of a threat to ensure that Borgin did not sell it; a flash of the dark mark and a threat to unleash Greyback certainly did the trick.

It was so early when they arrived at King’s Cross that he actually witnessed the Hogwarts’ Express pulling onto the platform before opening its doors ready to receive students. It didn’t take long before Draco was sat in his compartment surrounded by the few people that he might have considered friends. Pansy was stroking his hair, which he always liked, Crabbe and Goyle were laughing their low chuckles whilst reading a comic book, and Zabini and Nott were talking quietly in the corner. Inside he was conflicted, knowing that he had betrayed his “friends” was not a pleasant thought but now that he came to think of it, were they really his friends. Crabbe and Goyle were just stooges, as their fathers had been to his father, Pansy supposed that one day she would marry Draco and become the Lady of the Manor. If he had his way there would not be a new Lady of the Manor after his mother, but then again, despite being a spoiled brat at times, Draco very rarely got his way with any matters of consequence. His father had always made those decisions “for the good of the family”.

His bitter musings were interrupted with a knock on the door and then the sight of a third-year girl sliding the compartment door open.

She looked incredibly nervous in front of all of the older Slytherins.

‘I’m supposed to deliver this to Blaise Zabini, that’s you, right?’ she looked in Blaise’s direction and he nodded. He reached out his hand to take a small scroll of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Draco pushed Pansy aside, curiosity getting the better of him.

Blaise unrolled the tiny scroll and read aloud.

_‘Blaise,_

_ I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C._

_Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn’ _

‘An invitation to lunch with the new DADA Professor, I suppose. I wonder where yours is, Draco.’ Blaise sneered in Draco’s direction, knowing that the lack of invite would seem like a personal snub from the new Professor.

‘What do I care?’ he mused, ‘Just some new stooge of Dumbledore’s. If you really feel the need to suck up, Blaise, then you should go.’ Draco knew that his taunts wouldn’t stop Zabini from going, but he tried to get in a retaliatory jab back for his comment.

Blaise grinned as he left the compartment, he always loved rattling Draco’s cage.

\--

The Slytherin sixth years had long since changed into their school robes when Zabini returned. Draco with annoyance as Blaise failed to get the compartment door closed, resulting in a lot of loud bangs each time the door jammed. It was as if the door did not enjoy its rough treatment and it sprang back, wide open, sending Zabini into Goyle’s lap. Draco saw, out of the corner of his eye, a flash of white but looking around when the chaos died down, there was nothing white that could have moved that fast. He pondered on it for a few seconds before he lay back down with his head in Pansy’s lap.

Draco milked Blaise for information about Slughorn’s gathering, being careful not to let his disappointment at not being invited show in his voice or on his face. As soon as he heard that Slughorn was trying to cosy up to well-connected types, he was not surprised to hear that McLaggan and Belby were invited. Of course, bloody perfect Potter had been there, but the Weaselette and Longbottom? What on earth was Slughorn playing at inviting those two?

The sixth years chatted idly about Slughorn’s party and the upcoming term, the countryside was getting much wilder and they couldn't have been more than ten minutes from Hogwarts now. Draco largely sat back and listened as the conversation turned to Voldemort, none of them knew what he was really like or how cruel he could be. Draco wasn’t even sure if any of them had ever met the Dark Lord in person, he doubted it with the way they were going on boastfully about joining up when they left school. It was all that he could do to not scoff out loud.

As the scarlet train chugged into Hogsmeade station there was a sudden upsurge in noise as in every compartment students were getting to their feet and dragging trunks and animal cages down from the luggage racks. Draco rather thought he heard a muffled cry of “Oomph” as Goyle pulled his trunk down, a noise that was much too loud to have come from the neighbouring compartment. As the rest of the Slytherins left he called to them to go on ahead of him and reached down into his own trunk to draw his wand. Hand gripped firmly on the handle, he whirled around and pointed his wand at the now empty luggage rack.

_‘Petrificus Totalus!’_ he cried out and laughed as the contorted body of Harry Potter fell to the floor, a silvery invisibility cloak sliding off him as he fell. Draco stood astride the prone boy beneath him, smiling broadly.

‘I thought so,’ he said jubilantly. ‘I heard Goyle’s trunk hit you, and I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back …’ His eyes lingered for a moment upon Harry’s trainers. ‘That was you blocking the door when Zabini came back in, I suppose? You think you’re so clever trying to over hear all of our secret plans, do you? Well you heard nothing that I care about Potter. But while I’ve got you here …’

And he stamped, hard on Harry’s face, feeling the nose break under his foot, blood spattered everywhere.

‘That’s for my father!’ He froze momentarily, a horrified look on his pale face. The Unbreakable Vow, he could not cause lasting damage to Harry Potter and live. Moments seemed to tick by, the bleeding boy frozen on the floor and Draco, frozen too, standing above him. As more seconds went by Draco relaxed; he was not dead. Breaking a nose must not count as lasting damage. He sighed, thinking that this little test of the limits of the Unbreakable Vow has certainly proved to be worthwhile. He could still hurt Potter, as long as there was nothing permanent. He grinned maliciously, drawing the cloak over his enemy and making sure to tread on his fingers as he left.

He caught up with the other Slytherins as they were getting into a carriage up to the school and wasted no time at all in regaling them with the story of how he had just broken Harry Potter’s nose. The stupid Gryffindor would be back in London before anyone found him, what an excellent way to start the new school year.


	4. 1st - 7th September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a new fic, my first in a VERY long time (over a decade, wow!)
> 
> Proof-reading help might be on its way soon. Bear with me and my awful punctuation and grammar until then!
> 
> Whilst Kudos is lovely, comments go a long way to keep me motivated to keep writing this

Chapter 2 - 13th July

Draco took his place at the Slytherin table for the start of term feast feeling immensely pleased at getting one over on Potter. He wasn’t really paying too much attention to the sorting before he realised how hungry he really was. Mid-way through the feast he glanced up to watch curiously as Professor Snape exited the side door of the raised platform at the behest of Filch. Five minutes passed before the large oak doors of the Great Hall creaked open and Harry Potter slid into the room trying desperately to look inconspicuous, a feat almost impossible considering that the front of his Muggle clothes were drenched in blood. His happiness vanished instantly, would Potter tell Dumbledore, he had been foolish and now risked expulsion; he would not be sent home, he would refuse to go.

Potter slipped into his seat just as the main course vanished and was replaced by dessert. Draco reached for his favourite chocolate fudge cake and completely forgot all about the Boy Who Lived as he poured single cream over his cake. Draco didn’t usually indulge too much whilst at school even with all that food on offer. He idly wondered why so many more students weren’t fat like Crabbe and Goyle. Chocolate fudge cake liberally coated in cream was his one food weakness though. He could never turn it down and it usually appeared right in front of him regardless of which seat he sat in at feasts. Draco blocked out all the noise and barely even opened his eyes as he ate, focusing as much as he could on the sense of taste at the expense of his other senses.

The feeling of great contentment that washed over him as he indulged in the cake lasted for a long time even after he was done. Only the sound of Dumbledore getting to his feet and calling for quiet brought him back to himself.

The words seemed to float right over Draco’s ears, even minutes after he heard them he was sure that he would not be able to repeat anything that the Headmaster said. He was dragged back to full attentiveness at the introduction of Professor Slughorn who was apparently there to teach Potions. That must mean Severus had finally gotten his wish, Draco thought. A fact confirmed moments later by Dumbledore announcing Snape as the new teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Just a little sulky that, despite all the time they had spent together over the summer, Snape had not thought to inform his godson of the happy news; Draco led the raucous applause from the Slytherin table. Grinning broadly as he saw Snape wave a lazy hand to acknowledge the applause. Draco knew that the man needed to retain his cool exterior but also deep down that he was utterly thrilled to finally get the post he had so longed for and Draco was happy for him. Of course bloody Potter had to go and ruin it, the uncouth oik had yelled out, obviously desperate to draw away even more attention. Stupid git!

After the staff announcements, Draco grew bored again. He didn’t really want to hear anything about the Dark Lord and how the houses needed to unite with it being so dangerous all the time. He pulled his wand and levitated his dessert fork, crumbs of chocolate cake still clinging onto the shiny silver as he made it twirl around in midair. With a loud scraping noise that pulled Draco from his musings, the whole school arose as one and Draco realised that Dumbledore had regained his seat having dismissed them to bed. He chanced a glance over at the Gryffindor table and saw Potter still sitting there, staring daggers in his direction. He grinned maliciously and then started to tell Theo and Pansy all about the little incident on the train, with overblown mimed hand actions to accompany the story.

\--

Draco meandered down to a late breakfast on Saturday morning, most of the rest of the school seemed to be doing the same. The first week back had been a busy one, the start of the N.E.W.T. courses had brought similar warnings from the teachers that they had about O.W.L.s. This year was to be all about hard work and advanced study; he was honestly looking forward to throwing himself into his work and desperately wanted to beat the mudblood Granger. He knew, as he walked through the large oak doors into the Great Hall, that the other Slytherins in his year were early risers. Crabbe and Goyle were just finishing off giant plates of food which Draco was certain they’d filled multiple times over. He sat on the bench opposite the two hulking boys and pulled a croissant and a bowl of jam towards him. Slicing the pastry open and liberally spreading the strawberry jam on the inside he only took one delicious bite before his eagle owl, Uther, deposited a small message beside his plate and flew off immediately, not even stopping to eat. Reaching out a hand and unfurling the scroll, Draco read,

_‘6:30 pm - My office. Tell no one.’_

He only managed to read through the small note once before it turned to dust in his hands. He had recognised the handwriting as soon as he saw it and had no doubt that other Slytherins would have also noticed their Head of House’s writing.

\--

At 6:30pm prompt, Draco knocked sharply on the door of the familiar office that Snape, despite teaching floors above now, had not vacated.

‘Good evening, Professor.’

‘Good evening, Draco.’

‘May I offer my congratulations on your...’ Draco hesitated for a moment, ‘promotion.’ He offered his godfather a small bow.

‘Thank you, Draco.’ A smile played across Snape’s face, something which very few students had ever seen him do before.

Draco stood, expecting to be offered a seat, but knowing better than to simply sit down. His father had taught him those manners at a very young age. Snape just placed his fingertips together and stared at the boy, waiting to see how long it would take before his resolve faltered. Minutes passed in silence, Snape still grinning, he could see Draco becoming more agitated and eventually he caved.

‘Well Severus? Why am I here?’

‘Remember Draco, in school I am to be addressed as Professor or Sir.’ Draco blushed slightly at being caught, he had after all, spent most of the summer calling the man Severus.

‘My apologies, Professor.’ the icy Malfoy mask slipping down onto Draco’s face as Snape had seen Lucius do so many times.

‘The Headmaster wishes to speak with you and it is best that nobody else knows. I understand that these are to become regular... lessons.’ Snape rather thought that the word interrogation might be more appropriate but did not voice those fears to the boy. Snape pointed with his wand to a floor length portrait in the corner of the room and it opened a fraction.

‘The Headmaster is waiting, Draco, you will return within an hour through the same passageway. No one will know where you have been. If anyone asks, you are having additional lessons with me, it will not be difficult to convince your classmates that we are doing work for the Dark Lord.’

Draco nodded back at the Professor as the pulled the portrait open to reveal a well lit passage behind. After only a short walk Draco found himself facing what was clearly the back of a blank canvas he pushed it and it opened up into the Headmaster’s study. The passage had been completely flat despite the fact that he was now several floors above where he had started. Closing the portrait behind him, he noticed that it was attached to a rather strange contraption. It most closely resembled a carousel, with each side holding a different portrait. The one he had stepped out of was a bubbling cauldron either side was a detailed painting of the moon as well as vicious looking plant. Draco wondered if that meant that Dumbledore had secret passageways to all of teachers’offices.

‘Good evening, Draco.’ The boy jumped almost imperceptibly and turned his head sharply to see the old man sat behind his desk looking pensive.

‘Headmaster.’ Draco inclined his head slightly in deference to the man who had essentially offered to rescue him from the Dark Lord. He hovered by a chair but again did not sit.

‘I thought that it would be best if we had regular meetings this year. You can appreciate, I’m sure, that you are a valuable source of information for the Order of the Phoenix.’ Draco stood, his face impassive.

‘You must forgive my rudeness Draco.’ Draco’s hand moved to grip the back of the nearest chair, expecting to be offered a seat. But before he could reach it, Dumbledore’s arm whirled through the air and Draco heard the old man cry,

_‘Legilimens!’_

A whirl of memories flooded through Draco’s brain, not expecting the attack on his mind, he was not able to put up his usual shields. The surprise nature of it meant that he couldn’t even marshal his thoughts.Wild images flashed through his mind seemingly unconnected, his father, his mother, his first broomstick, his Hogwarts letter, Harry Potter, Quidditch matches, his dormitory, Severus, Harry Potter, Voldemort, Harry Potter. Dumbledore pressed harder into Draco’s mind searching through his memories trying to get to his true feelings. The memory of stomping on Harry Potter’s face was dragged forward, the feeling of horror at what he had done was being amplified by Dumbledore’s magical power. Draco felt the shame creeping up his neck, concerned at how awful he was feeling for what he had done to the other boy. Not just for the fact that the Unbreakable Vow might have killed him for it, but for the fact that he felt genuine remorse. Was that Dumbledore’s doing? Or was that how he genuinely felt deep down.

With a savage tug in his brain, Dumbledore lifted the spell and Draco fell to his knees panting hard.

‘I am sorry, Draco.’ Dumbledore stared down looking kind-faced at the boy struggling to regain his footing.

‘How dare you!’ Draco spat at him, scrambling up from the undignified position sprawled on the floor. ‘What right do you have to invade my mind like that?’

‘I needed to assess your true intentions. I am satisfied that your change of sides is genuine.’ Dumbledore’s calm and level voice just irritated Draco more.

‘You had no right!’

‘I had every right!’ Dumbledore boomed, his voice filling the office entirely now. ‘The very fate of the Wizarding world might depend on you, Draco. The end of Lord Voldemort and the survival of Harry Potter might be in your hands. I had every right to check what your truest intentions are.’ Dumbledore’s power seemed to hit him in waves along with the words. Draco flushed slightly at the mention of Harry Potter and the number of memories that Dumbledore seemed to drag from him. All those furtive glances when Potter wasn’t looking, oblivious to Draco’s observation.

Draco was panting hard from the assault on his mind, he could feel the sweat trickling down his brow. He pulled from his pocket a monogrammed handkerchief and dabbed it across his forehead taking a few moments to wipe away the sweat and to compose himself.

‘Now, Draco, if you will take a seat, there is much for us to discuss.’


	5. Late September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter, christmas and all!  
As ever, I love reading peoples comments!

Chapter 5 - Late September

The first few “lessons” that Draco had had with Dumbledore had essentially seen the younger wizard being thoroughly pumped for information. With the large number of Death Eaters staying at Malfoy Manor over the summer, Draco had gleaned a lot more than he realised about the plans of the Dark Lord. Most only knew small bits of information, but Draco, having been listening for any word of his betrayal reaching the Dark Lord had built up a large bank of all of these small bits of knowledge and with Dumbledore’s guided questioning they had started to piece things together. Thankfully, from Draco’s point of view at least, there had been no more Legilimency used on him. Dumbledore seemed to trust, after his first invasion of Draco’s thoughts, that the change of sides was completely genuine, helped no doubt by assurances from Professor Snape.

It had been decided that they were to meet twice a week but never staying to any sort of schedule. Draco understood this, falling into a pattern would make it easier to spot, but it still rankled every time he was summoned to Snape’s office by rapidly burning parchment. Dumbledore was treating him like a house-elf and that simply was not on! Something would have to be done, Draco decided.

The next time Draco was summoned, he resolved to instruct the Headmaster to find another way to mutually schedule their little chats. But his determination was shaken by Dumbledore’s first words when Draco pushed open the portrait on the rotating carousel.

“Good evening, Draco. Take a seat, I have a gift for you.”

Draco felt his right eyebrow twitch upwards in its characteristic way as it always did at the first sign of incredulity. He reached out a hand to draw back his usual straight backed chair opposite Dumbledore and sat down. It was then that he noticed a plush purple cushion with a golden signet ring placed atop it facing Dumbledore.

“Let us see how well you were taught,” Dumbledore smiled at Draco, eyes full of amusement.

He turned the cushion to reveal a crest engraved onto the flat plate of the ring.

“Do you know to which house does this crest belong?” Dumbledore asked.

“The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black,” Draco reeled off. He had of course been taught all of the details of the Great Houses from a young age.

“And their motto?”

“Toujours Pur,” the answers coming quickly from the depths of his brain.

“And in English?”

“Always Pure,” Draco smiled in return to Dumbledore beaming at him from across the vast wooden desk. He did always love giving the correct answers to questions even though he was often beaten to it by that mudblood Granger.

“Their seat is located?”

“In London, but no one is sure where. Unlike Malfoy Manor, the location is only known to members of the family.”

“And who is the current Lord Black?”

Draco faltered at this question. He did not know the answer. He felt the initial stages of shame as Dumbledore looked on expectantly. If this was his father teaching him then a Stinging Hex would have already been forthcoming at his slightest hesitation.

“I...don’t know, Sir,” Draco said, uneasily.

Dumbledore continued to smile down at him.

“And once again Draco, you are quite correct.” Draco’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No one really knows who the current Lord Black is as Sirius and Regulus are both dead.”

Draco sat there in silence for a few moments, slowly connecting things together in his head.

“But then, Sir,” he said hesitatingly. “Would that not mean that...that I am the current Lord Black?”

Dumbledore kept smiling broadly, it was starting to irritate Draco.

“I am very impressed that you came to this conclusion so quickly, Draco. I had rather expected to have to guide you to this epiphany step by step. As a male descendant of the House of Black, it is indeed possible that the title is now yours. There are two tests that we can perform to ascertain if you are right. Firstly, you should be able to correctly write down the address of the London residence of the House of Black. Secondly, you should be able to summon the remaining family house-elf, Kreacher. Shall we try that now?” Dumbledore reached under his desk and drew up parchment, quill and ink before sliding them over to Draco.

With a slightly shaking hand, Draco picked up the large quill and dipped it into the ink. The possibility that he might be Lord Black filled him with a huge sense of hope. Perhaps he could leave his father behind, leave Voldemort behind. He could move into the house and hide out the entire war, cut off from the cursed name Malfoy forever. Draco Black, well it didn’t necessarily have a ring to it but perhaps it would do. As he glanced down at the blank parchment however, all of the hope suddenly vanished. He did not know what to write, he did not know the address, he was not Lord Black.

He placed the quill back down on its side and exhaled slowly.

“Nevermind,” said Dumbledore. “Perhaps the house-elf? Kreacher is his name,” Dumbledore prompted at Draco’s slight hesitation.

“KREACHER!” Draco yelled loud and clear, some of the portraits on the wall woke with a start. But that was the only thing that happened; no elf appeared. ready to do Draco’s bidding.

Draco sagged in his chair. Dumbledore, sensing the disappointment in the boy tried to reassure him. “Nevermind, nevermind. The ring should still work for you, as you are the eldest male Black descendant.”

Draco was confused, how could he be the eldest male descendant and not be Lord Black? He hoped that Dumbledore would explain but instead he picked up the purple cushion and passed it to Draco.

“As I am sure you are aware from your father, this signet is to be worn on the little finger of your left hand. What I am sure that you are not aware, is that this ring is imbued with very particular powers.”

Draco gasped as he slipped the ring on, he felt the resizing charm adjust it to fit his slender finger but also the wave of tingling power that swept through his body when it was settled in place.

Dumbledore smiled again.

“Now then, I can see that it will work just fine for you. Please, try to make this cushion fly.”

Draco reached into his robes with his right hand and drew out his wand, but the second it cleared the folds of the material, it shot through his fingers and flew straight into Dumbledore’s hand.

“Magical power resides within each witch and wizard. Our wands are just tools to be able to focus that power. There are wizards who, with years of training, can use wandless magic but it is often weak, comparable to that of an infant wizard. This ring however, will give you another conduit to focus your magic, should you ever find yourself wandless.” Dumbledore smiled as he explained quietly from across the table.

“Do you mean that I will be able to do wandless magic if I am wearing this ring?” Draco asked slightly in shock.

“No, Draco”, Dumbledore explained. “True wandless magic is, as I say, very rare. With enough training and practice, you will be able to do your usual magic but using the ring as the focal point and not your wand. If anyone were ever to break open this ring, firstly they would likely die from the explosion of raw magic, but should someone else come looking through the wreckage they would find that this ring contains a unicorn tail hair, a dragon heartstring, and a Phoenix tail feather. Or at least that is the rumour regarding the source of the ring’s power.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open in shock at Dumbledore’s words. Three magical cores, encased in one object, it was unheard of. The power contained inside must be astronomical. He shifted in his chair slightly, almost trying to back away from his own hand, looking down at it warily as if it might explode at any moment.

Dumbledore seemed to sense his discomfort. “Do not be alarmed Draco. This ring is incredibly old and is yet to explode once. I believe that ancestors of the Black family either discovered, or more likely paid a skilled wizard smith who discovered, a way to safely harness all of that power. Such a task nowadays would obviously be outlawed by the Ministry but the rules have not always been so stringent or so well enforced and here we are. The ring exists, I have gifted it to you, and if you wish it, I will train you to use it. Do you wish it?”

There was no way that Draco could keep the hungry look out of his eyes, the gold from the ring reflecting across his face as he answered low and slow, “Yes. I wish it very much.”

“Excellent!” Dumbledore beamed, his arms stretched wide in a welcoming gesture. “Now I believe I gave you your first instruction already. Would you kindly make this cushion fly?”

—

Draco’s lessons with Dumbledore had gone from painfully dull interrogations to a fascinating study into wandless magic. Draco was enthralled by the whole thing and spent most of his spare time in the library researching the scarce amount of knowledge passed down on the subject. He was filled with a feverish thirst for knowledge, one that he had not experienced since Severus gave him his first potions book and kit. Of course he didn’t dare ask the vulture-like Librarian for help as he had been told explicitly by Dumbledore to keep the existence of the ring to himself. Dumbledore had placed a glamour over the crest so that anyone glancing at it would simply see the Malfoy coat of arms and assume it was Draco’s by birthright.

All of this research however came at a cost. He was falling behind on his actual school work; never Potions of course for which he was always eager to complete work even if it was Slughorn setting it. So too his work for Defence Against the Dark Arts was always completed on time. Transfiguration on the other hand, was slipping. He simply did not see the point in wasting his time finishing work set by that grumpy old cat McGonagall.

Draco’s research was not limited to expanding his knowledge of wandless magic. He was also determined to discover who was the current Lord Black. It was inconceivable that it was not him and yet the ring worked using his magical power. His own copy of Nature’s Nobility was back at the Manor so he had to use the copy from the Library. As he pulled the book down off the shelf, a thick layer of dust cascaded over his face, almost like snow. Spluttering and wiping the offending dust off his robes, Draco opened the book. It was maddeningly unhelpful; it didn’t even list the death of Sirius Black. What was the point of the book supposedly being updated magically if the goblins at Gringotts couldn’t even keep the information accurate? Forcibly shoving the book back on the shelf, Draco huffed back to his quiet corner table. Grabbing parchment and quill he resorted to the only thing he could do, writing a letter.

It was not widely known that every magical family that went back even just a few hundred years was assigned a status by the goblins of Gringotts. The Malfoy family was a Great House, ancient and noble with a lineage going back thousands of years. Mudbloods of course weren’t accorded any sort of honour like this and neither were half-bloods whose ancestry could only be traced back so far. Severus for example was the last of the Prince family line and that technically made him Lord Prince; although the Princes were considered extremely minor in the grand scheme of things. Draco thought this was a great injustice, Severus should be the Lord of a Great House of his own. Perhaps in a few centuries he would be considered the founder of House of Snape. It especially rankled when muggle-loving fools like Arthur Weasley were the head of their Great Houses. Draco scoffed at the idea of The Most Noble House of Weasley.

Each House had a Lord and an Heir and from a very young age Draco was made very clearly aware of the responsibility he held as Heir Malfoy. The Keeper of Names at Gringotts held the records of every witch and wizard in Britain as well as their lineage. The goblins mostly used this information for legal disputes over inheritances and the like and were in possession of a signed agreement from the Ministry that they would never be asked to hand over the information. It was possible, however, to query their records. Mostly this was done by the Pureblood families seeking to make matches for their sons and daughters. It was to the Keeper of Names that Draco addressed his letter.

_To the Keeper of Names, Gringotts Bank._

_I, Draco, Heir Malfoy wish to inquire as to the status of..._

His quill paused in the air over the parchment. Every good experiment needed some sort of control, where the outcome would be known. Severus had taught him that. But who to choose? There was no point in selecting himself, the goblins would simply toss a ridiculous request like that into the fire. He made up his mind, dipped his handsome eagle feather quill into his ink and returned to the parchment.

_ ...the youngest daughter of Lord Greengrass and their family status._

Draco already knew what the information should be, his father had told him on his 14th birthday that he was to marry Astoria Greengrass. She was two years below him at Hogwarts and, according to his father, would be a good match for the Greengrass family.

_I also wish to inquire as to the status of Lord Black and his family status._

Draco signed the letter, rolled it up tight and tapped it with his wand. A wax seal bloomed from the end to seal the scroll shut.

Thinking of just discarding the library books on his table he stood up, intending to leave for the owlery and find Uther. But as he did so, there was a tapping on the glass beside him; his owl was perched on the ledge outside. Opening the window Uther hopped inside and held out his leg with a message. Without even reading it, Draco took it from the bird, attached his letter to the Keeper of Names and fed Uther an owl treat from his pocket before holding his arm out of the window and allowing the owl to take flight again.

Sagging back into the comfy chair that he had occupied for the last few hours Draco popped the seal on the message and read:

_ Our Lord hopes that you are progressing well with your task. If you require further assistance we have secured an asset for your use in Hogsmeade. If you wish to use her services you will need to have a drink. You will find the asset most amenable to your requirements._

Draco set the parchment alight with his wand and stared deeply into the flames.


	6. 12th October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco messes up big

It was perhaps lucky that Draco was breakfasting alone at the Slytherin table when no less than four post owls landed on the table in front of him. If any of his housemates had been there, the sheer volume of post that Draco was now receiving on a daily basis was sure to start to garner attention. As it was, there was a small group of older Ravenclaws who seemed to be studying as they ate, what looked like a family of Hufflepuffs celebrating a birthday and a few lone Gryffindors. He took the four scrolls and laid them carefully next to his plate of pastries and fruit, whatever was in them, he decided, could wait until after breakfast.

Draco did not like spending too much time in the common room of late, he was very aware of just how many of his fellow students had parents in service to the Dark Lord. Negotiating his remaining time in the house would be a very careful game of politics but fortunately Draco was a master of that particular game. Instead of heading down towards the dungeons, he climbed the staircase to the fourth floor and pushed open the heavy doors of the library. Draco headed to the far corner and took a seat at his usual small table by the window and started to read his letters.

The first was rather dull:

_Mr Malfoy,_

_ Your rearranged detention will take place this morning at 11 O’clock in my office. Please bring your Transfiguration work with you._

_ Prof. M. McGonagall_

Well that was just brilliant, Draco mused to himself. The old cat was going to ruin his visit to Hogsmeade, he would have to tell Pansy that he would need to cancel their plans together.

The second and third letters were clearly from Gringotts:

_ To Draco, Heir Malfoy, _

_ The information that you requested is below: _

_ Astoria Greengrass, youngest of two daughters of Claude and Claudette Greengrass who have no sons. _

Draco never ceased to find those names amusing, what a wonderful coincidence that Claude married Claudette. 

_ Astoria is of purest blood, the name Greengrass is to be found in the Pure-Blood Directory as a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. _

_ Astoria was betrothed at birth to Draco, Heir Malfoy by consent of their fathers. _

There followed a short statement of the known holdings of the Greengrass family. Draco did not even bother reading it, everything that was officially on the books with the Goblins never covered even half of what a family owned. It was merely for show, a formality, and the true figures would have been discussed by his father and Claude Greengrass. He could picture the scene now, his father in his study behind his enormous desk negotiating the marriage of his then infant child. Draco shuddered slightly at the thought of it.

The third letter was similar but much shorter.

_ To Draco, Heir Malfoy, _

_ The information that you requested is below: _

_ Lord Black _

_ Information on Lord Black is currently unavailable to all. _

_ Yours, _

_ The Keeper of Names _

Draco read through the parchment twice, still slightly stunned. He had never seen the Goblins redact information like this before. When he was younger he wrote to the Keeper of Names getting the information on all of his friends in Slytherin, it was fun. The Goblins had always provided the information before. He furrowed his brow at the idea, he did not have time to spare to investigate the mystery of Lord Black, but something inside him was already formulating a plan, an idea of how to find out what he wanted to know. The mystery needed to be solved.

The final scroll sent shivers down his spine:

_ The item you requested has been purchased. Its previous owner was most amenable to my haggling. It will be delivered today by our mutual friend in Hogsmeade who will ensure it finds its way into the school. It would be prudent not to be in the village today although if you must visit for supplies, I would insist that you do not waste time going for a drink. _

_ FG _

It was going to happen that day, Draco’s first attempt. He was suddenly clammy and nervous, if he failed then the Dark Lord would be informed and be very angry at him. If he succeeded somehow, then a dangerous dark object would be taken out of circulation and destroyed by Dumbledore but still the Dark Lord would be angry at his failure to kill the old man.

He rubbed his temples slowly, already feeling a strong headache coming on, before sweeping up his letters and tossing all four into the fire beside him.

\--

Draco’s detention with McGonagall was predictably dull. She lectured him for a full ten minutes on the importance of not falling behind so early on in his N.E.W.T. work, before forcing him to sit at a desk and complete the missing homeworks. She did not seem to grasp the idea of detentions, Draco thought. They were supposed to be awful, a punishment, a deterrent. Snape’s detentions were legendary, disgusting manual labour usually involving rotten potions ingredients. Even Dumbledore knew how they were supposed to work, having sent him with the Gryffindorks into the Forbidden Forest back in first year. But McGonagall was just a push over, she walked around with her nose in the air acting like everyone but her precious lion cubs was beneath her contempt. He sat there working on other homework, having completed his Transfiguration work quickly. He had vaguely hoped that if he handed her the completed work quickly that she might let him go sooner. But she had taken it from him and motioned back towards his solitary desk to continue working.

It was just before lunchtime when Draco heard a door smash into a wall in the distance, both he and McGonagall looked up from their work still and silent. The sound of pounding footsteps came closer and closer before McGonagall’s office door burst open and the oaf Hagrid stumbled over the threshold carrying a person in his arms and babbling about a student being cursed. Draco’s blood ran cold, he knew that McGonagall had no idea what was happening but he certainly did.

“Hagrid, take Katie up to the hospital wing. I will be there shortly. Mister Malfoy, you may go,” McGonagall barked at him.

Draco, not needing to be told twice, gathered his things and left the office, but instead of leaving, decided to secrete himself in a niche a little way down from the now ajar door. He was rewarded for his patience a few minutes later as McGonagall returned, leading Potter, Granger and the Weasel along the corridor with an older girl that Draco did not recognise towing along behind them.

Once the door was closed behind them all, Draco crept to the door and bent low to listen. McGonagall really was an idiot, Draco thought to himself. If Severus were holding a meeting of this magnitude in his office he would surely throw up any number of privacy spells. McGonagall had done nothing, no silencing charm, no Imperturbable charm on the door, not even a Muffliato. He could hear all the voices inside clearly enough to make out every word that they were saying. He listened to the story that the unknown girl was telling and only just managed to spring back to the niche as she was dismissed to the hospital wing. He had to wait for her to round the corner at the end of the corridor before he could make his way back to the keyhole where he heard Potter’s voice.

“I think that Draco Malfoy gave Katie that necklace, Professor.”

Draco was stunned, how could Potter possibly suspect him already? He barely registered that Potter and his cronies had followed him at Diagon Alley that summer and that the mudblood had even gone into Borgin and Burkes after him. He only realised how tense he was when he heard McGonagall tell Potter all about his detention, effectively giving him an alibi for the whole thing. He skulked off into the shadows just in time to see the office empty and McGonagall prowl off towards the hospital wing.

\--

As he sat down to dinner that evening Draco found a note suddenly appearing on top of his plate. It merely said:

_At your earliest convenience._

He grimaced slightly. It was Snape’s latest way of “politely” summoning him to a meeting with Dumbledore. He had thought this was coming, there was no way that Dumbledore wouldn’t want to question him after the incident. He ladled some beef stew onto his plate along with some mashed potato and green beans but within 10 minutes he realised that he had hardly eaten anything and had simply been mixing the food into a brown mush on the plate.

Draco slid the offending meal away from him and rose off the bench at the Slytherin table. No one questioned that he left early any more, most were too absorbed in the gossip surrounding the incident with the necklace. Draco did not want to hear any more theories on who sent the package or who the actual target was.

He trudged out of the doors, not even feeling Potter’s eyes boring into the back of his head as he left the Great Hall.

Severus did not even speak to him as Draco passed through the Potions Master’s office and through the phoenix portrait towards Dumbledore’s office.

Before he’d even managed a hasty “Good evening,” Dumbledore had grabbed him by the shoulders and bellowed into his face. “What on earth were you thinking you idiot boy? Katie could have died!”

“Katie, who's Katie?” Draco stammered.

“Katie Bell you fool! The unfortunate victim of that cursed necklace you purchased. Why on earth did she have it Draco, you were supposed to give it straight to me.”

“You never told me to give it directly to you,” Draco protested. “All you said was to make sure it got into the castle and you’d deal with it. So I had someone try to smuggle it in past Filch.”

“Stupid boy! You were supposed to bring it in yourself, Mister Filch would catch you and bring you straight to me so that I could destroy the necklace myself. Voldemort would have found out you had been caught and were clearly trying hard to complete your mission. The girl could have died, Draco. You need to be more careful.”

Draco hung his head, finally understanding what the Headmaster had meant when they planned this together.

“If I may, Headmaster?” The silky voice came from behind Draco causing him to spin on the spot and see that Snape had silently followed him down the passage. Dumbledore nodded his assent for Snape to talk.

“Draco is new to your service and to your,” a slight cough. “Subtle ways. Perhaps in the future we need to be explicitly clear with instructions.”

“Perhaps Severus. But we need to be careful that Voldemort does not read Draco’s mind and see him accepting orders from me.”

“That is true Headmaster, but whilst Draco has clearly not yet mastered subtlety, he has managed to master Occlumency.” Draco blushed at the veiled rebuke from his godfather. But also recalled how easily Dumbledore had penetrated his mind previously.

“Professor Dumbledore is right,” Draco felt somewhat odd correcting Snape like this. “I was wrong, I need to learn to understand his orders better.”

Snape looked shocked, he could not recall Draco Malfoy ever having admitted to being wrong before. The arrogant boy usually passed off his mistakes as the failings of others, but it was pleasing to Severus to see him finally owning up to his own flaws.

Dumbledore merely sighed. “Draco, you were much too careless with the necklace, a student could have died and it would have been entirely your fault. You are not a killer, Draco. Please do not become one by accident.” Draco’s head dropped as he felt his face flushing more with shame.

“You may go, Draco. But Severus, please stay. We need to discuss tomorrow’s announcement.” And with that, Dumbledore waved him from the room.


	7. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some exciting news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that this has taken far too long to write. The prevalence of Coronavirus has seemingly dented my creative side.  
Hoping to post more often.  
Please do comment if you're enjoying the story so far.

By the time that Halloween came around Draco was thoroughly miserable. He was getting weekly requests for updates from his contacts outside of the castle and he was really no further along with his mission to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. Montague had proved to be useless with regards to information on how it actually worked after his extended period stuck in the blasted contraption the year previously. Draco was spending an increasing amount of time in the Room of Requirement, books spread out at his feet just trying to understand how the magic of the cabinet worked.

What he badly needed was a distraction. Some bit of fun to take his mind off the approaching horrors. Rather luckily for him, the distraction came that evening, after the Halloween feast.

After a particularly extravagant meal, Dumbledore took advantage of the post-dessert lull to get to his feet and wander around the back of the staff table to stand at the owl-fronted lectern in front of the whole school.

“Good evening to you all,” he spread his arms wide in his characteristic gesture, as if he were welcoming them all to the conversation. “I hope that you are not all befuddled by the food as I have something very important to announce.”

The room fell instantly silent, all eyes on the old wizard stood before them.

“The teachers and I have decided that in the current climate we would like to encourage more friendly competition between the houses whilst developing certain skills that might become useful to you all some day. To that end, we are pleased to reinstate the Hogwarts House Duelling Competition.”

A rustle of murmerings went up and down the Great Hall at these words.

“I am sure that those of you in fifth year and above will remember the last attempt at a duelling club,” many minds flew back to Gilderoy Lockhart and his fiasco of a club. “However, I can assure you all that this competition will be nothing like that at all.”

“Let me explain to you how it will work. The entire competition will be open to all. In order to enter, you must simply write your name on a piece of parchment and place it in the boxes that will have appeared by now in each of your common rooms. The draw will be made at random on the last Sunday of term where 8 names per house will be selected to compete. Please do be aware that there will be no restrictions on age, gender or friendship groups. Anyone who enters can be drawn to face anyone else from within their house. Each house will have an evening in the final week of term to work its way through the competition until each house produces a champion. The four house champions will then compete in a semi-final and final on Friday 20th December where we will crown the Hogwarts Duelling Champion. During the house stages, the duels will take the traditional form, for those not aware of how a wizard duel is supposed to work, there will be further information left in houses. The semi finals and finals will be… a little different,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at this final remark.

“Now, it is getting rather late and I am sure that the first and second years must be just about ready for bed, and the rest of you,” a slight pause and a chuckle. “Well the rest of you will enjoy the remainder of the evening in spirited discussion no doubt. Good night, and sleep well.”

There was a moment of silence before the four house tables erupted with noise. Friends up and down the Great Hall burst into discussion about Dumbledore’s announcement but having little wish to converse with Crabbe and Goyle, who were sat either side of him, Draco leaned back slightly and gazed around the cavernous room.

Some older Ravenclaws had already pulled some spell books out, no doubt trying to plan out a winning strategy, there were excitable first year Hufflepuffs eager for some glory for their pathetic excuse for a house. Draco’s gaze landed briefly on the Wonder Trio where the Weasel and Granger were leaning close in animated discussion, Potter on the other hand was looking glum. Draco’s brow furrowed at this sight, surely Potter would be all over an event like this with a hero complex that size. Potter, the Chosen One fighting off the entirety of the school to emerge victorious just like the bloody Triwizard. But then again, Draco pondered, that was when Diggory died, when the Dark Lord returned and when the wizarding war began. Perhaps Potter wouldn’t be as keen as Draco had first assumed.

It wasn’t until he noticed Potter peering over at him that Draco realised he’d been staring at Potter for far too long. Potter’s vivid green eyes stood out to Draco amongst all of the black school robes surrounding them. The stare wasn’t angry or full of hate, in fact Draco would have said, if he had anyone he felt comfortable sharing with, that Potter’s look was more of a query, an attempt to understand why Draco was looking at him at all. Just as these conflicting thoughts started to zoom through Draco’s mind then the connection was broken as the matted haired Crabbe leaned across his vision to talk more easily with Goyle. Irritated, Draco shoved hard on the large boy’s arm to push him back into a more upright position, but by the time Draco had located Potter at the Gryffindor table once again it was too late. Most of the 6th years were on their feet and had started their journey back up to the tower and the Lion’s den.

Once some of the hubbub had died down, Draco eased himself off the wooden bench to lead the Slytherin 6th and 7th years back down to the Snake pit, their common room deep in the dungeons. The handful of older students took all of the best leather armchairs which were scattered around the outer edge of the room and as they arrived, all the other students were directed to take seats on the floor; the well established procedure for a house meeting.

All eyes were turned to Draco, as the de-facto leader of the house it was his meeting to run.

Without calling for it, silence fell as soon as Draco rose from his chair.

“It goes without saying,” Draco began, his slow calm voice clearly heard by all in the silent room. “That this Duelling Competition is an extraordinary opportunity and the house senior students have agreed to call a full house meeting. As ever, no words spoken here must reach the ears of any of the teachers or the other houses. You will be bound by these terms and suffer any breaches most severely. If you do not wish to be so bound, speak up now.” His cold grey eyes swept the room. No one ever spoke up.

“Very well. We have decided as a house to alter the Headmaster’s conditions for this event. It will NOT be open to all.” A few younger students looked sulky but did not speak out. “This is to maximise our potential at winning and bringing glory to the house.” Draco’s voice was getting louder as he went on, a technique he learned from his father to engender support for his words.

“We must put our best duelists forward in order to beat all of the other houses and bring the cup, where it belongs, to Slytherin!” A number of the students cheered their support.

“To that end. I have decided that we will only be placing eight names into the Headmaster’s nomination box, there will be no surprises when the draw is made. Once those eight names are in, I will be sealing the box permanently so that no one else can enter. We will be entering those four people I know to be exceptional duelists, myself, Zabini, Harper and Baddock.” Draco gestured towards each in turn with the 3rd year Baddock looking especially pleased to be grouped in with such illustrious company despite a slight murmur at his name.

“I dare any person here,” Draco’s voice rose in volume again to quell the murmuring. “To challenge Baddock to a duel right now if they feel that he does not warrant his place on the list.” Draco had seen the younger boy fighting with a Ravenclaw, his power was extremely well developed for a mere 3rd year.

“I challenge!” Draco had expected it to come from the floor but instead it was Theo rising out of a leather wingback chair on the far side of the room.

“How could you forsake all of us for him, Draco?” Nott’s arms were outstretched, clearly feeling that an older student should have been chosen over lowly Malcolm Baddock. “Have you no loyalty?”

“I am loyal to the house, Nott. As you should be. But if you wish to challenge, I will not stop you. Clear a space!” He bellowed the order to the room at large and the sea of people before him parted to leave a rectangle of clear space in the middle of the floor.

Nott took his place at one end and 20 feet away stood Baddock, both boys with wands drawn at the ready.

“Begin!” Draco roared and the two boys swung their wands forward and cast their spells at the same time. Nott’s Stupefy was perfectly aimed, straight and true, right between Baddock’s eyes. Or at least it would have been if the younger boy hadn’t already been ducking when Draco commanded them to start. It is significantly easier to move your head out of the way than it is to move your entire body; especially if that body is full of smug determination to best a “lesser enemy”. As it was, Baddock’s full Body-Bind hit Nott squarely in the chest causing his arms to snap to his sides and his legs to spring together. The rogue Stupefy merely hit the stone wall and dissipated into nothingness. It was over much quicker than Draco had thought it would be, however, he was pleased that his choice was vindicated in front of the whole house.

Nott had toppled over and dropped his wand as the spell had hit him. Draco pointed at Crabbe and Goyle who were both sat on the floor nearby.

“Pick him up you two, but don’t bother freeing him just yet, we might get through this meeting much quicker without any further interruptions. Just prop him up over there.” Draco waved vaguely towards a corner of the room.

With Nott out of the way, Draco drew all attention back on to himself one more.

“As I was saying, myself, Zabini, Harper and Baddock will be the first four names entered. Anyone else wishing to enter will instead place their name into this box.” Draco pulled a similar looking box to Dumbledore’s from under his chair. “I will draw four random names to be our final entrants. No first or second years will be allowed to enter. If you are drawn to face any of the senior four then you are expected to lose. We do not have control over what order the names are chosen, so what we can control is this. If you volunteer to take part and you are drawn against myself, Zabini, Harper or Baddock you must lose. With that in mind, you have 10 minutes to enter your name into this box. Meeting over.”

The majority of Slytherin house rose to its feet and trudged away to the dormitories, some first and second years looking even more grumpy than before. A small queue of people formed in front of Draco who surveyed each one in turn, sizing them up. Theo appeared in the middle of the line, seemingly released from his Bind by Pansy, he was holding out a piece of parchment with his name on and made to put it in the box. Draco’s hand leisurely moved away from his side, blocking access to the slot.

“I don’t think so Theo. We can’t have someone enter after pulling a stunt like that. If you’d beaten Baddock, or even managed to last longer than one spell, well I might have been persuaded to change my mind. But as it is, we are not going to have someone like you representing this house.

Draco took great pleasure at seeing the colour rising on Nott’s face and how the boy was spluttering with rage as he stormed off to their dormitory without submitting his name. Draco waited a few minutes before following him, carrying the box of names under his arm. With a quick wave of his wand he randomised all of the names, and with another little flick, made sure that Pansy’s name was at the very top.


End file.
